The GolemMaker's Quest
by The Exile
Summary: After a run-in with some ill-mannered adventurers, Golem Lord Argelmach sends his apprentice to retrieve his stolen head.
1. Chapter 1

**The Golem-Maker's Quest**

Some animals sleep in trees to avoid the lions, tigers and other predators that stalk the jungle. I use the same principle for survival. When I finally have time to sleep, I wrest a stepladder from a gnome, climb up one of the golems, onto the part hooks and sleep in the rafters. Height isn't his strong point - he can't be bothered to climb that far to find me. 

Until today.

"You! Wake up!"

I yawned and blinked. I looked straight into the half-crazed eyes of Golem Lord Argelmach, who was, displaying admirable agility for a dwarf, perching on a golem part hook.

"Let me sleep just a little longer..." I curled up in a ball again.

"You've been asleep for three days, you lazy bastard!" he snapped. He reached for something to throw at me but couldn't find anything except his favourite spanner, which already had a dent in it. He was probably worried about it but didn't have time to fix it. Come to think of it, he looked a little rough. His hair looked like he had tried to shave it with a thresher and his eyes looked like they had at some point been replaced with new ones and then he had broken the new ones.

I just shrugged in reply. It could be true. There was no way to measure the passage of time in this place.

"I have an urgent request of you." he said, "You will follow me."

I sighed, hopped off my perch and made my way down to the floor. He pointed at the wall with his wrench.

"Now, the route we are taking and the area you are entering is forbidden." he said, "You will wear a blindfold at all times. You will not take it off until I give you permission."

I gasped in mock amazement.

"You mean to say that the lights actually WORK somewhere in this place?"

He didn't look amused, so I just took the blindfold. I was used to suddenly being plunged into complete darkness by now. I expected a long walk, perhaps up the Spire, maybe even right to the top of the Upper Spire. I was quite surprised when I was pushed by a dwarf on a stepladder with wheels through what I always believed to be a solid wall. I felt a sickening tingling feeling that sent static electricity down my spine, then the comfortable heat drained out of me and I was somewhere as cold and blue as the grave. I didn't need to be able to see to know that I was somewhere utterly forbidden, not only by Argelmach, but by the creators of this world, sealed forever unto mortals except those shadowy half-people who stood at the right hand of the Gods and mocked us all. I was committing a great sin just by being here. I was grateful for the blindfold. I didn't want to know what kind of things happened here. The music was deceptively pleasant - it sounded like 'Purification of Darkness' from the Grandia 2 OST.

Then I heard his voice again.

"As you may have noticed if you were being at all attentive, we were infested by adventurers last night." he said, "Unfortunately, there were five of them and they were a lot more powerful than the kind we usually have to deal with. Despite his best efforts, my most recent physical shell was overpowered and the adventurers managed to remove its head."

"They... decapitated him?" This made me feel slightly sick, even though I knew that Argelmach was mechanical. The adventurers didn't know that, after all. Were they such barbarians that they stole people's heads?

"This is the twentieth head I've lost this week alone." continued the voice, "Our thorium veins are running low. As for the jewels I make the eyes from... I cannot afford to keep replacing my physical shell. I need those heads back, boy."

"I have been... investigating the problem." he continued, "A certain company in Ironforge is paying quest-givers a great deal of money to employ adventurers to obtain my heads. They are selling them for raw materials on the streets of Ironforge for double the profit."

"I want you to go and relinquish the heads for me, boy."

"Er..." I stepped back. The wall had handily solidified. "To Ironforge?"

"It isn't as bad as its made out to be. I usually disguise myself as a Dwarf."

"You want me to... let me get this right... sneak into Ironforge, steal your head and escape with it. From Ironforge."

"Not A head! I need at least 250."

"HOW MANY?"

"Don't worry. They pack them in crates of 50. You'll just need to steal five crates."

"How do I even lift a box of fifty solid thorium golem heads?"

"Oh, they're not THAT heavy. They're not solid."

"Mr. Argelmach, sir..." I sighed, trying to think of a way to phrase it so that I wouldn't have the life thrashed out of me with a spanner, "Do you give out quests often?"

"I dare say I don't usually have the leisure to think them up."

"Usually, when a quest giver asks you to collect things or kill things, they ask for eight or ten or twelve. Not 250."

"They have thousands of people per day going for their quests." he explained, folding his arms, "It must add up to millions of quest items handed in per day. Certainly, they can afford to pay out their quest rewards and still make a 500 profit. I have only you." after a moment's consideration, he added "And you are useless and incompetent."

"Speaking of quest rewards..."

"If you bring them back to me within three days, your punishment shall be less merciless."

I sighed. If his sudden passion for creative quest-giving ended here, that would be mercy enough.

"One more thing..." he said, "Do not worry about death."

"I'm afraid its one of the things I worry about every day, sir."

"You will not remain dead for long." he promised.

"You have a priest in here?"

"I do not need to resurrect in order to immortalise." he said.

"You wouldn't!" I gasped.

"I know, a copy of something faulty is even more faulty. One day you may stop moving altogether. But I will do my best to correct the mistakes made by your creators. I have lived in a world I control for too long, it will be refreshing to have to correct for so many errors again." he said. I could hear him drumming his fingers on his desk, "Leave now. Do not forget that you have stood in the presence of the original Argelmach, and that he still lives. Nobody knows that. I have taken pains and made deals beyond your feeble imagination to ensure that it will remain that way. Do you understand?"

I nodded. Then I walked backwards through the wall. It worked this time. I removed the blindfold and shook my hair away from my eyes. A piece of paper fell on my head.

GOLEM LFG.

"Oh, don't you lot start." I sighed. Another piece of paper replaced it.

I CAN TANK.

"Shut up."

A short pause. Then, from the other direction:

I CAN HEAL.

"Now you're just making things up."

TWO GOLEMS LFM.

THREE GOLEMS.

OKAY, THREE GOLEMS LFM.

I sighed. It was going to be a quest of annoyingly epic proportions.  
------------------------


	2. Chapter 2

They really could heal. Well, of course they could heal, duh. They were paladins of Ragnaros.

It had begun three years ago when a barrel of beer had been delivered to the Manufactory by accident. It was meant to go upstairs but Argelmach wasn't stupid. With the help of his gnomish technicians and his apprentice, he drank the lot before the idiots upstairs ever realised that they were a barrel short. I never realised that he was physiologically capable of being drunk. He makes a very realistic Dwarf. When I finally found him three days later in the middle of Molten Core, riveted to the ceiling, he had already declared himself Grand Heirophant of Ragnaros and started mass-producing automated paladins. It was amazing how many Gnomes were stupid enough to join his cult. The workforce had quadrupled overnight.

As we made our way out of the mountain, taking care that I did not slip from the chain and plunge screaming into the searing volcanic depths to be immolated instantly, I tried to use reason to dissuade my 'party' from coming along.

"Two golems trying to sneak into Ironforge are going to be noticed." I explained, "And we can't very well barge in through the front gate!"

A pause. Then one of the golems replied, writing in the notepad it had taken from Argelmach's desk:

LF21M FOR RAID ON IRONFORGE.

I couldn't stop it in time to prevent myself from being showered by LFG notes. There were golems EVERYWHERE in the Burning Steppes.

"You wouldn't fit in the tram!" I said, "You wouldn't get through the door, and you golems can't bend down, can you?"

The golems seemed convinced by this. Turning on their heels, they lumbered off in the opposite direction. The self-proclaimed leader stretched out a massive stone arm and their 21 friends stopped. They looked restless. If they hadn't been animated bits of rock, I would have sworn I saw disappointment on their faces.

It occurred to me that I had no idea how I was going to sneak into Ironforge. While I could pass for Human if I wore a hooded cloak, I spoke no Common and only some Dwarven in a Dark Iron accent. I didn't know my way around the grand Capital and I certainly didn't know how I was going to steal huge crates of iron heads and drag them back halfway across the continent. I sat on a rock, staring into the sky at a swarm of tiny red dragonlings following their mother to roost. I wish I was a dragon, I thought, so I could just fly where I needed to go.

"Any ideas?" I turned to the golems. After a minute or so, a piece of paper appeared in my lap.

I FIND PRAYING TO RAGNAROS USUALLY HELPS.

I sighed. It was as good an idea as any. Crossing my legs, I closed my eyes put my hands together in prayer as I had seen Argelmach do.

"Oh holy Ragnaros." I said, "I, favoured disciple of the Grand Heirophant, beseech thee for aid. Please aid me in my time of hardship."

Suddenly, the ground rumbled and erupted in a shower of magma, almost incinerating one of the golems. Fearing for my life, I threw myself down and put my hands over my head. I heard a deep rumbling voice in my head. In that voice I heard the roar of fire, and a rusty grating that revealed the corruption of the almighty elemental.

VERY WELL, FOOLISH MORTAL, I WILL AID YOU IF YOU PROVIDE A SERVICE FOR ME.

"Wh... what would one such as you need from me?"

I AM HUNGRY, said the flaming behemoth, NONE COME TO MY LAIR ANY MORE. THERE ARE MORE TEMPTING PRIZES ELSEWHERE. NEW AND MORE DANGEROUS CHALLENGES. I AM OF THE OLD WORLD AND I FEAR I SHALL DIE WITH IT.

I bowed my head. It was true that not as many people went down to the Core any more. Argelmach preferred the peace and quiet - they always wanted to go through him first.

FIND ME FOOD, it roared, FIND ME TWENTY-FIVE ADVENTURERS AND BRING THEM HERE TO BE SACRIFICED.

"Er..." I stammered, "Is this the next chain in my quest? Is it like a PVP quest?"

I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF KILLING THE ADVENTURERS MYSELF, rumbled Ragnaros, JUST PERSUADE THEM TO COME TO ME.

I sighed and walked back to the Mountain.  
--


	3. Chapter 3

Although I haven't yet been trusted enough to make my own golem, I have some skill in the crafting of dark iron. It didn't take me long, with a forge and hammer, to make a large floating exclamation mark and place it above my head. Painting it yellow was more difficult, as Argelmach was reluctant to part with his second favourite colour paint.

For a reward, I took the remaining beer barrel from our store room and pulled it to the entrance of the mountain. As soon as I began to hand out free samples, adventurers suddenly began flocking from miles around, drinking and carousing. An entire guild rested in the shade of the mountain to conduct business over a tankard of Dark Iron Stout and a slice of cheese. It didn't take me long to find twenty-five of them drunk enough and curious enough (adventurers loved anything new) to ask about the new quest.

"It's an escort quest." I told them, "You have to follow me and keep me alive, wherever I go."

"You're not going to run around pulling all the aggro for miles, are you?" grumbled a large Orcish warrior. I shook my head and told him that I quite enjoyed being alive, thank you very much. His face split into a wide grin full of sharp white tusks.

"What's the reward again?"

"An entire keg of ale." I said, "Each."

"Lead the way." he grunted, beckoning his friends over.

"Its a twenty-five man raid." I warned him. He began yelling and shouting for more people to join him. Soon, I had twenty-five of them following me. I picked up the pace and led them up into the mountain.

THAT WAS A DIFFICULT BATTLE, he remarked, ADVENTURERS HAVE REALLY COME ON NOWADAYS, HAVEN'T THEY? SUCH PRETTY ARMOUR AND WEAPONS.

"Their gods are spoiling them." I explained, yawning and stretching. I was glad to be rid of my yellow exclamation mark. It was heavy and inconvenient having a solid lump of iron poking me in the head, "So, where's my part of the bargain."

GO UP TO THE TOP OF THE SPIRE.

"What, from down here?" I complained, "You're as bad as my master. At least he shows me short cuts up the mountain."

JUST DO IT, LITTLE ONE, OR I CAN'T HELP YOU.

I jumped up from my hiding place behind a rock and scrambled up the steps, taking care to avoid the angry, swearing adventurers who were busy resurrecting, healing and reorganising themselves. It was a long and gruelling climb, even for one who knew every short cut and whom the monsters weren't interested in. There, on the top of the mountain, was a sight I'd never seen before in all my long years of traipsing up and down the Spire to fetch things.

A ring of corrupted air elementals were dancing a primordial dance, whipping up a frenzy, twisting and turning, howling in fury.

MY COUSINS WILL TAKE YOU ON THE WIND WHERE YOU NEED TO GO, explained Ragnaros.

"Are you sure they're safe?"

THEY FEAR ME. THEY WILL NOT CROSS ME.

"Th... then, er..." I felt silly talking to what was essentially a large angry gale, "C... can you take me to Ironforge, please?"

As if in answer, the howling became louder, the wind stronger, so strong that I thought I was going to be knocked off the mountain top to be dashed on the jagged rocks below. But then the elemental grabbed me and I was pulled bodily off the ledge and into the air. I was being dragged by the wind across the sky in the direction of Loch Modan.


	4. Chapter 4

It was during this long ride that I realised that I had become agoraphobic.

In the shelter of the mountains, I had barely noticed it except for a mild sensation of dread which I had attributed to the presence of Ragnaros. The sky was really not the best place for a man who had spent a month in a stone coffin and the rest of his life after that in a small underground factory. I felt nauseous. The whole world was spinning around me. I shut my eyes so that i didn't have to look at the endless open space around me, of the instability of the ground beneath my feet, until I was deposited at the gates of Ironforge.

I walked in, my travelling cloak pulled up over my head, and tried to look inconspicuous. The guard waved me through, muttering something about rogues. I breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed against a familiar, solid stone wall...

And fell straight through it.

Swearing rather eloquently in Dark Dwarven, I picked myself up and dusted myself down. And dusty this place was. It was old, so old that the stone paths were eroding, the wood rotting and everywhere the colours faded. Nobody lived here any more. It was eerie. Not just eerie like a ghost town, but eerie as though he shouldn't be here. It was the same forbidden air as the place he had gone to when he fell through the wall before, but worse. This place was truly not meant to be looked on by mortal eyes.

I turned and tried to run, but as soon as I put my hand to the wall, I heard a rumbling sound. Turning my head again, I saw a Dwarf pushing a lone cart down the deserted street. The rattle of the cart's wheels sounded like an earthquake in the dead silence. On the back of the cart were several crates. Keeping my back to the wall, I silently sneaked up to him.

Eventually he stopped to give his beast of burden - a large ram - a rest, and to check his goods. As he lifted the lid of the crate, I gasped. Shivers went down my spine. It was a head - a head made of iron that looked just like my master's. Its eyes were still glaring at me, as if blaming me even in death for his failure to defend himself against the brutal savagery of the adventurers.

I followed him further. He continued down the road before turning into what was once a bustling merchant's square. I was led through the center of the abandoned town until eventually the Dwarf stopped outside a building that looked like a blacksmith's forge and knocked on the door. After a few minutes, a voice said "Come in." The merchant nodded and pushed the door open.

That was when I struck.

Darting out of the shadows, I jumped onto the cart and drove it away from the house as fast as I could persuade the ram to move. Trying desperately to remember the way, I sped through the square and back down the road.

The ram reared up and stopped before I reached the wall through which I had entered, sending me flying to smack into the wall. I could hear the merchant's angry shouts coming closer. Picking up my bruised body, I tried leaning against the wall, concentrating with all my will. It refused to yield, solid stone once more. I swore and banged my fists on the wall, demanding that it move.

Then a familiar voice echoed down the street.

"Where do you think you're going with my heads, boy?"

I just stood and stared at him. This version of him had smartened itself up - he wore a black suit and hiss beard was neatly combed, braided and fastened with a clasp of dark iron. He rested on a walking stick, although his other hand still hovered over his spanner.

"S... sir, what are you doing here?"

"I like it in here. Just offload them near the door, my apprentice will sort them out." he waved his cane at the merchant, who scurried off, "Old Ironforge. An entire unfinished city. Part of the old, pre-released world. Did you know, boy, that the word 'golem' means an unfinished form, or an incomplete man? This is our world, boy."

"B... but..." I looked around nervously, "I was sent on a quest to retrieve the heads... and take them back to Blackrock Depths..."

"Why would I want you to take them back there? I told you to take them to where I was, boy... here."

"B... but I assumed..."

"You assumed that just because you fell through a wall in one place that you would end up in the same place on the other side?" he tutted, "You really don't understand this world, do you, boy?"

"I'm sorry." I bowed low. It was difficult to bow low enough to supplicate a Dwarf, but Argelmach tended to help me by hitting me on the head until I was the right height. Fortunately, he didn't seem that angry.

"Do you know, boy, what a priest is?"

"It heals you." I shrug.

"That's just a minor class feature. A priest is one whom the Gods gave a limited amount of their own authority." said Argelmach, resting on his walking stick, "Gods created this world. We were given authority to create golems, imperfect soulless creations, to do our bidding. And there's more. Security privelages, boy, access to restricted areas, like this place."

"Sir, you're not a priest." I reminded him. Was he still drunk? He didn't look it.

"Ragnaros is no God." he continued, "Why, I'm sure if I thought about it for long enough, I'd think of a way to bind and control him. No, the real Gods have authority beyond your darkest imagination. When you begin to understand what lies behind this world, boy, then you'll be ready to become a fully fledged partner of mine."

I looked around nervously.  
"D... does this mean I failed my quest?"

"No, boy, the quest isn't over yet. That was just one step in the chain."

I sighed. "What've I got to do now?"

"I'll handle the rest of our business here." he said, "You go home now. And while you're there, read this. Your quest ends when you've read it from cover to cover."

He reached into the inside pockets of his jacket and took out a small brown leatherbound book. It looked old. Its pages were yellowing and smelled musty. Argelmach had been writing in the margins.

The title said: 'Latency 6000: The Adventures of Doan Lagbringer'.


End file.
